


Clothes Doth Oft Proclaim the Man

by Fabrisse



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Suit Kink, Suit Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 13:50:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8016481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabrisse/pseuds/Fabrisse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eggsy's thoughts on suits, both his and Harry's.</p><p>Title taken from <i>Hamlet</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clothes Doth Oft Proclaim the Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silentflux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentflux/gifts).



> Warning: The events post church scene are mentioned.
> 
> Prompt: He never thought a suit could be that sexy.  
> Kink: Power issues

He’d never thought about suits before joining Kingsman, not really. If he thought of them at all, it was seeing them on the posh wankers in the Commons or reading news on the telly and James Bond, maybe. Most of the suits Eggsy saw were at funerals, and they were ill-fitting, left over from weddings decades earlier or failed job interviews in attempts to get out of council housing. (Though Jamal’s dad wore one to church that wasn’t too bad. He was a lay preacher and thought it showed respect to the Almighty to dress well.)

Eggsy remembered being fitted for his first suit, before Roxy won the Lancelot slot, before he’d saved the world, before Harry had died. Harry sat in the room watching him in the three way mirror as well as the flesh as he’d stood in just his pants and t-shirt. Jeremy did the measuring, with small precise movements, taking meticulous notes, never looking subservient, even as he knelt in front of Eggsy.

They’d gone out to the main shop and discussed wool fabrics, the hand of the cloth used for shirtings, the correct length of ties, why French cuffs were superior -- teargas cuff links were available in dressing room 3 -- and how to accessorize to personal taste while remaining a gentleman. He’d loved that day, that time with Harry, both of them pretending their hands didn’t brush more often than they needed to. Those moments had held such promise before his hopes were shattered by Harry’s words and Harry’s death.

Now suits were part of his life. Every agent had to learn the basics of tailoring in order to maintain the agency’s cover. And with Harry miraculously back from the dead and rocking an eye patch, the sensuality of good suiting was becoming ingrained.

***  
He remembered helping to measure and fit Harry for his first post-resurrection suit. His injuries from the church had been left untreated long enough that there was a permanent change in Harry’s gait, and a slight quirk to his right shoulder. Building that suit, which made Harry look unchanged, had been a revelation to Eggsy. He knew the care the tailors took, even something as fiddly as matching the stripes or checks precisely at the seams, but this time he saw what the little bit extra that admiration (the tailors) and love (Eggsy) could do to perfect “a modern gentleman’s armor.” 

In his new suit, Harry’s rosewood cane looked like a prop rather than a necessity, and that had let Eggsy ask him out again. 

Before, right after they’d discovered that John Doe 17 at the hospital in Cairo, Kentucky had a British accent and brought him home, Harry had said, “Fuck no, Eggsy. You’re a knight now, on your own merits, and whatever your sense of obligation to me, you have more than repaid it by killing Valentine and saving the world.”

Eggsy’s jaw tightened at that, but he merely nodded and said, “As you wish, Harry.”

The second time Eggsy had ventured to ask Harry for a date was several months later, about a week after Harry’d finally gone to his home to recover. Harry had just quietly smiled and said, “No need for you to stay, Eggsy. The doctors say I should look after myself.”

In the last two months, since the table had approved Harry for the role of Arthur, four suits for daily wear had been completed, and Harry’s new dinner jacket was so elegant on him, that Eggsy had requested extra room in _his_ trousers. Jeremy had given a twitch of a smile and said, “Of course, sir.”

This time when he asked, Harry had said, “How can I say no?”

That first night, Eggsy divested Harry of all the accoutrements kissing where new flesh was bared to his lips, nuzzling his neck to breathe the spicy musk of his aftershave, teeth scraping Harry’s clavicle as he reverently touched every inch of his long body. 

He knelt and looked up at Harry, asking permission to taste him, his eyes lighting with joy when the permission was granted. Slowly, he licked the long shaft, pulling the foreskin over the glans, before leaning forward to tongue around the head. He teased until he felt Harry’s hands in his hair. He opened his mouth to take Harry deep and sucked hard on his way back up. He could feel Harry tremble as he resisted the urge to thrust. His fingertips trailed over the tender skin of Harry’s thighs as he kept up the deliberate pace of his sucking. He glanced up again and saw Harry nearly gone with ecstasy and sped his rhythm. It wasn’t long before the telltale flare let him brace for Harry to spill in his mouth.

When Harry’s breathing calmed, he said, “Look at you. Unruffled, completely put together. A gentleman with a mouth full of my come.”

Eggsy shook his head. “Swallowed, but I bet you could taste yourself if you kissed me.”

He was pulled to his feet, his mouth plundered by Harry. They broke apart and Eggsy stripped himself, carefully draping his clothes on the furniture until he stood naked before the man he adored.

“Come to bed, you beautiful boy.”

Eggsy nodded and lay down beside Harry. “What do you want, Harry, right this minute?”

“I want you to break in my arms, having fucked yourself out in my body.”

Eggsy’s smile turned wolfish as he flipped Harry onto his back. “Can’t think of anythin’ I’d like better.”

Hours later, Eggsy got out of bed, and Harry caught his wrist. “Stay, please. You don’t need to leave.”

“Weren’t leavin’, Harry. Just need the loo.” When he returned, he pulled Harry close and said, “I ain’t leavin’ you ever.”

***  
Five months later, Eggsy found himself savoring the small moments of dressing for the day, something that would never have happened if he’d stayed on the estates. The suits themselves weren’t all of it. Developing his own taste -- with Merlin’s guidance and Roxy’s help before Harry’s return -- was a part of it. (Harry had nodded the first time Eggsy wore a grey three piece suit. “An excellent choice, Eggsy. It makes you look less dangerous than we all know you are.”) 

The subtle brightness of a pocket square, the shoes tied just so, the ritual of selecting the perfect tie and the right shirt, fastening his cufflinks, and finally, slipping on his glasses, all made him feel puissant. He knew that others, men especially, would share that impression. 

Eggsy recognized it in Harry; other gentlemen tended to react to him as if a predator were in their midst, and watching their reactions let Eggsy know whether the man facing Harry was predator or prey himself. It had taken him longer to see that the public school boys, the ones with average degrees from Oxford or Cambridge because a gentleman didn’t try too hard, had the same tension between fight or flight when he sat down and began to discuss politics with them. 

Eggsy saw them all and knew himself a predator, camouflaged by his new surroundings, sounding out the prey before deciding which morsel would be tastiest to bring home to his mate. Because Harry, his mate -- once again wearing his bespoke armor, eye patch, cane and all-- was still the top of the food chain.


End file.
